7

I push the machine forward, checking the overall scene from a spot a little way back from the front lines.

The scene on the monitor showed Armunale thrashing about in the chaos of battle.

One clawed at the ground like an animal, four limbs pushing, its sharp nails piercing through the chest.

The other one—calmly dealing with Abnomyle’s charge, sword in hand, shieldless, just a curved blade—moved with a faintly familiar rhythm.

And what catches the eye most on the battlefield is that crimson machine tearing through the heart of the front line.

Swinging the axes in both arms, cutting down enemies one after another—it was like dancing.

If the other two machines were all about destruction, Leon felt the last one was fighting as if to shine itself.

So, where to next?

I mutter that, watching the battlefield on the monitor.

The kingdom’s Armunale is fighting against the empire’s machines, and hasn’t even reached the mercenaries yet. That’s probably why they’re being pushed back in the south—but it should be the same up north.

So there should’ve been backup units stationed at both ends. But there’s no sign of them.

“Got taken out by mercenaries?”

Seeing those three machines, I can’t blame them—but I still wish they’d fought a bit harder.

“Ah, well. Can’t expect miracles.”

I do wish they’d held on, but I know full well I couldn’t handle all three at once myself.

One’s definitely Rayla. The second, from its shape and fighting style, must be the one that attacked the capital. And the third… well, it’s listed in the kingdom’s database.

“Rezette of Pleasure, was it?”

Word is coming in that he’s been hanging around with the Elshard Mercenaries lately—no doubt there’s some link there.

Every single one of them’s a tough nut for Leon.

He knows better than anyone that no matter which pair you pick from this lot, taking on two machines at once means getting wiped out in seconds.

So fight one.

Figure out what his role is. Decide which machine to take.

“Alright, let’s go.”

No need to think.

Leon stepped forward, foot lifting from stillness, gathering speed.

He plunged into the battlefield’s heart, sword drawn, where red flowers danced in the air.

Rezette was panicking.

No matter how many weaklings she crushed, the one she wanted wasn’t showing up.

The sword-winged machine didn’t so much as twitch, though the front line was crumbling. Then, finally, the first seat moved—started fighting the sword wing head-on.

My stomach twisted at the thought: what if the sword wing loses, and my revenge gets buried under some half-baked truce? But no—sword wing knocked the first seat down, then pulled back, probably for repairs.

Meanwhile, the north and center had pushed right up to headquarters. We weren’t breathing easy anymore.

“Should we pull back to help the others?”

I kicked aside another swarm of abnomyle, mind spinning.

We’d pressed them hard enough that the sword wing had to move eventually. Waiting might work—but what if they take the command center? What if the whole war ends before I even get my turn?

Would’ve been easier if either Volz or Layla could’ve taken it—but Volz never listens to anything like that, and Layla’s stuck up north, so sending reinforcements her way’d take forever. And if I move either of them off this front, the Swordwing’ll follow, so I don’t want to risk it.

“Guess I’ll have to move myself, then.”

Rizet’s choice was to go. The one thing I absolutely couldn’t let happen was missing my chance to fight.

Just as I was slipping back, sidestepping the weaklings, a single unit lunged in—its blade caught midair. I blinked. Doubled. My eyes didn’t believe it.

“Imperial unit!? No… captured, maybe?”

“That’s right. The key to this front’s you, the Hedonist Rizet.”

“Hmph. You’re all such a bunch of wimps. Just gonna give you a good kick in the backside.”

If the ones hitting it stop, maybe the beast’ll calm down. Could be worth a try.

You think you can do it? Killing this hedonist!

Swinging the axe, tearing the enemy loose.

Then double-checking the enemy unit’s gear again.

Imperial frame, but the gear’s from the Kingdom—two swords, one shield. Standard two-sword-one-shield setup. But that weight I felt during the clash… stronger than any other Armunale I’ve known.

Could’ve been a modified model, but then why use an Imperial frame?

And then it hits me. Right here, someone’s riding a normal unit, pushing harder than others.

“Half-manual control, huh? That sync thing of Rayla’s. So you’re Batis, the big-sword type, and you’re Leon?”

“You’ve got me figured out too, huh? Rayla’s turned into quite the chatterbox.”

Leon held his sword at the ready, standing there with calm ease.

Troublesome opponent. Rizet knew Rayla’s strength—and the power of half-manual control. If she could handle that, then ordinary pilots wouldn’t stand a chance.

But he had no intention of losing.

“I’ve trained with Rayla plenty, you know. Not gonna quit here!”

She swung both axes, launching her attack.

One was blocked with the sword, the other with the shield. Exactly as expected.

That was when Rizet’s real move began.

She pulled back the axe on her shield side, lunging fast at his feet. Leon raised the shield again—but in that moment, his left shoulder was wide open.

Rizet stepped forward, planting her foot on the shield and swinging the axe at his shoulder.

But Leon wasn’t some rookie pilot to be taken lightly.

The instant the shield was crushed underfoot, he purged it on the spot and caught Rizet’s machine—the arm swinging toward him—right in midair.

“Gah…”

“Not gonna fall for that.”

“Yeah, I know that already!”

Rizet kicked the shield up, sending it flying to a spot too high to grab easily.

Then she pulled back, regrouping.

Leon didn’t press forward. He gripped his second sword in his left hand and adjusted his stance.

“Two swords? That’s my specialty!”

Rizet’s machine lunged again, both axes raised high.

◇

String games. That’s a tradition from every country, old as time.

I used to play it… on Armunale. No, wait. Can’t even do that right.

"Captain! Next one—left wire!"

"U-uh, this one?"

"No! The one on the right!"

"Is this it?"

"Exactly! Slide it through the hole on the left side!"

One by one, carefully, untangling the knotted wire.

Ugh. Of course. It’s a wire meant for shooting and throwing—can’t just cut it easily, and no joints or knots to begin with. Getting it all tangled up? Way worse than I thought.

I’d originally planned to head back to the maintenance shed, have Orell and the others just cut the enemy wires, then rush back to the battlefield. But Orell said, “This won’t come apart easy,” and we ended up deciding it was faster to untangle it piece by piece.

Right now, I’m following Karine’s directions, working through the tangle, one knot at a time.

Meanwhile, work on everything but the arms was going on too—some pretty surreal sight, really.

“Next, thread the wire through the gap between the right-hand knots!”

“Yessir!”

How long is this going to take, anyway? I keep thinking I should be back on the battlefield, but I keep at the string game.

Just then, Batis shows up.

“Hey, what’s this fun little thing you’re doing?”

“Wanna try?”

“Nah, not a chance.”

“Yeah, figured.”

He smiles and says no, so I nod, feeling a bit silly.

Batis’s machine’s taken a real beating—right now, they’re swapping out the whole arm.

His knee joint’s messed up too, judging by the way the mechanics crew’s huddled around, sweating over replacing parts.

“Repair on that one gonna take a while?”

“Yeah, pretty bad damage. But hey—I took out the second seat, didn’t I?”

“Could Batis be aiming for the Guard, too?”

“Might think about it if the royal family kept growing! Who’d you go up against over there?”

“The First Seat. I took it out—Imperial’s done for, I reckon. Probably about time the princess sent in her surrender offer….”

“Not gonna stop while Rayla and the others are still running wild.”

With the north pushing so hard, surrender offers won’t be taken seriously. They’ve thrown everything into this fight, after all.

If the Empire loses here, the neighboring nations’ll jump in all at once and seal off the whole thing. That’d make a comeback nearly impossible. But if we lose? The blockade falls apart, and the Empire’ll ramp up its invasions faster than ever.

Still—winning’s already all but over for the Empire now that I wiped out the First Seat. All that’s left is knocking the northern forces down a peg so they’ll actually accept surrender.

That’s the plan. Leon’s heading out now, but he’ll need help—going it alone’ll be tough. I wanna get there quick, but… well, this mess I’m in.

Leon’ll be fine. He’s my childhood friend, after all.

Weird reasoning, but when Batis says it, I’ll believe it.

Yeah. Anyway, better get back sooner than later. You’ve got this, okay?

Got it.

Batis heads back to his machine. I keep playing cat’s cradle, not even looking.

◇

By the time the shield got kicked away, I’d already given up on repairs. Hand open, sword in grip.

Leon watches the enemy’s motion, then blocks the descending axe.

The enemy machine steps back instantly, swiveling its body left and right, eyeing us. I see it—know it.

They know how to fight against half-manual controls.

You don’t fight by brute strength—so don’t let it be your downfall.

You don’t fight by speed—so don’t stay put in one place.

You don’t aim for a single killing blow—aim to wear them down, bit by bit.

All of that? Hard to handle with half-manual controls.

“Learned from Rayla… no, actually, figured it out through sparring with her.”

“Couldn’t beat her, but I’m not losing to you.”

“Same here. I’m not walking behind Rayla forever.”

“Handsome fellow. Might’ve let you have me before I met the nobleman. But!”

She steps in small, careful motions, measuring the distance, then lunges with her attack.

“Get out of my way, and I’ll flatten you!”

“That’s my line!”

Dodging the axe’s arc, I slam my knee into the enemy’s torso—just barely, by the grace of stepping aside.

But Leon just stretched his leg out, hooking the enemy’s waist with his ankle, and planted one foot firm, pinning the machine down. He swung it around—spinning, wobbling, off-balance.

I’d have pressed the attack, but the strain made my joints scream.

Warning lights flickered on the monitor—overload.

“Just one hit and that’s it?”

“Hmph… you’re really doing it.”

Rizet, regaining her stance, lunged in again.

I blocked with my leg, then pulled back—just enough to create space.

“Hurt your leg, huh? Then…”

She saw the sparks flying from my knee. Changed her tactics.

Circling around Leon’s machine, she started creeping toward the back.

To counter, Leon spun in place—but slowly. Each rotation piled up damage in his knee.

"Troublesome, huh. Better move from here."

He’d decided he couldn’t wait—Leon stepped forward.

Protecting his left leg, he kicked off with his right, lunging toward Rizet’s machine.

Rizet blocked the blade, then fired a kick with her left foot.

Leon took the blow head-on, letting her aim for his left leg—no protest.

"Blocked it!?!"

Sparks flared, wild and bright. But he could still hold.

As if to return the favor, he kicked back.

Rizet’s machine wobbled—her pivot foot swept out from under her—and she tumbled hard. Leon swung his blade down.

She barely parried with her axe, rolling away just in time. By the time she’d straightened up, Leon was already coming in again.

Step in, upward slash. The blade’s arc—like it was being shoved up by the axe—Rozet forced it back with her weapon.

No room to dodge. No time to step aside.

Each strike—light as if it wasn’t even a half-manual control—was too quick. Too light to stop, and that’s what made it impossible to keep up.

Then—finally—she missed. Leon’s sword found its mark, slashing deep into Rozet’s frame.

Struck mid-lift, her waist split open by the blade.

Not a killing blow. But one that’d ache later.

A wound to retreat from. But she didn’t think the enemy in front of her would let her go.

So she had no choice.

Rozet steeled herself, raising her axe.

But Leon? He didn’t even raise his sword.

“Don’t think you’re getting away, do you?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you’re planning to pull back from here.”

“Letting it slide, are we?”

Rozet frowned at Leon’s suggestion.

“That’s right. Your machine’s damaged too—can’t ignore that. If you pull back now, I won’t follow.”

That was Leon’s absolute truth.

But there was reason behind it.

Why Leon had come here. To stop this front from advancing further. The key? Rozet’s retreat—the one pushing hardest. And holding back Rayla’s machine and the mercs flanking on either side.

Put simply, it was buying time—until Eld arrived, until the south secured command.

And the knee damage? It wasn’t negligible anymore. Didn’t mean he’d lose—but thinking ahead, facing Rayla or those damned mercenaries later… he’d rather not add more strain.

So I invited her. If she backs down, I’ll let her go.

If it had been an imperial knight, this offer would’ve meant nothing. Knights put army and country first. So if they could crush Leon here, they’d likely risk their lives without hesitation. But Rézet’s different. Mercenaries put themselves before their comrades. That’s why I made the offer.

“Such a delightful proposition.”

“Then—”

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Choosing death, a mercenary?”

“Nope, I’m staying alive. I’ll take you down, then bring down Swordwing. That’s why I’m here, after all!”

“Then I have no choice. I’ll take you down.”

He readies his sword, gauging distance.

If she won’t step back, there’s nothing I can do. Even if it means letting Rayla or those damned mercenaries run wild—I have to stop her here.

They lunged at the same time, closing the distance in an instant. Right after, Leon’s machine’s knee erupted in flame, all strength draining away. He forced the tilting frame back upright, then lunged forward with one sword held like a staff, aiming straight for Rizet’s machine.

Caught off guard, Rizet flinched—still, she adjusted her timing and brought both axes down in a sweeping arc.

Leon’s blade pierced her chest. Rizet’s axe carved deep into her shoulder, slicing through to the chest.

Both machines shut down, collapsing sideways like drunken giants.

The sight vanished into the battlefield’s haze, swallowed by dust and smoke, gone before you could blink.

Next time…

Batis and Eld descend upon the battlefield once more. Facing them: Forze, and Rayla.

As the final clash nears, the fight accelerates.